Burial at the Sky
by Madin312
Summary: What if the Luteces pulled a different Booker? the Booker from Rapture. What changes would that make? Rated M for violence. And because it's Bioshock.


_**Burial at the Sky**_

**Hi, this idea came into my head after playing Burial at Sea Episode 1. And I feel really bad for Comstock/Booker… What happened to him was really unfair and needlessly cruel of Elizabeth. **

**So, to satisfy my own fantasies, I thought of this story where Booker number 122 is the Booker from Burial at Sea instead of our Booker from Infinite main game. How is that possible? Well, just go on and read. This story will have spoilers for Burial at Sea, obviously.**

**And FYI, I haven't abandoned "Spiritual Journey". I'll continue that story in due time. School's been such a bitch… and unfortunately, I had to focus on my studies as my grades were… less than satisfactory.**

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

_SHUT DOWN THE MACHINE!_

_GIVE ME BACK MY DAUGHTER!_

_SHE'S NOT THROUGH YET!_

_NOOOOOO!_

Booker Dewitt woke up with a jolt. He felt sweat trickling down his forehead. The cold temperature of the room was not an unwelcome condition nowadays. He had gotten used to sleeping without the thermostat on. And while that usually gave him a nasty cold, he found out quite some time ago that he could care less.

He tried to straighten his aching back only for a massive headache come. The effects of the alcohols he had consumed still lingered. He massaged his temple in an attempt to get rid of the painful hindrance. Sighing, he ran his hands along his graying hair and once again, sat in silence.

'I really need that 'Booze Hound' tonic…' thought the aging man to himself. After years, here he was, still drinking and gambling. And what did that brought him? He glanced to his left. Among the gambling tickets and the empty bottles, a head of a doll stared innocently at him with its hideous smile still etched on its worn out face.

'She's dead Booker… best not dwell on that anymore unless you want to drink yourself to death again.' After a few moments of complete silence, he was startled by someone knocking the door. He really was not in the mood for a job.

"We're closed! Come back tomorrow!" said Booker. He hoped the person on the other side would get the message, but they either had not heard him, or they just didn't care. The knocking continued. His head kept splitting at the loud knockings. He felt like someone hammered his head with a hammer, reset it, and hammered it all over again.

Booker was finally at the end of his patience. He was going to open the door and give whoever that was a good whack. 'I don't care if it's Andrew Ryan himself. I'll even punch Sophia Lamb right now. Closed is closed!'

As he rose from his chair, he felt a weird tingling sensation at the back of his head. He looked around and found nothing. His thoughts were interrupted by another round of knockings. 'Christ! Are they going to stop!?'

But just as he was going to take another step forward, he felt himself being yanked back by an invisible force. He felt himself spinning in a black vortex. He wanted to puke all the content of his stomach along with his stomach. When he landed on the ground, he could smell the sea, the rain pattering on his face… and he could feel his head bleeding… the last thing he saw were two yellow blobs standing over him speaking gibberish. Then everything went black.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Elizabeth stood outside the office of one 'Booker Dewitt'. This man had killed her. One of her. But she felt how she died. And She'll be damned if she was going to let that go. He needs to be 'educated proper'. The name etched on the glass that was separating them brought a sense of nostalgia. Of her time with Booker. With her… father. Though she never saw him as a father. He was her first friend. One that gave her a chance for freedom.

Elizabeth wore an outfit that would be more Rapturian, as her previous outfit just doesn't cut it for this period of time. Besides, that outfit could trigger his memory earlier than she wanted. She took a deep breath to prepare herself to face this man. Her plan's ready, she just needed to execute it. So she started knocking.

"We're closed! Come back tomorrow!" said a muffled voice from inside the room. She didn't care. She was not going to wait a whole day. She prepared for this and she was not going to let anything stop her. So she kept knocking. No answer. Maybe he passed out… nevertheless, she kept knocking at the door. He'll unlock the door sooner or later.

Then she heard a grunt and a sudden crash inside. She stopped. What happened? Perhaps he was so drunk that he tripped and fell. She twisted the handle and somehow not surprised to find it unlocked. She entered the room and found it empty save for one thing.

A closing tear right behind the chair. It felt like it happened in slow motion for her. Behind that tear, stood Robert Lutece in a yellow raincoat. His 'sister' stood beside him, as stoic as ever. Just before that tear closed, the man gave her a mocking salute, and finally the tear closed. She thought she could see everything behind the door… they proved her wrong.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

**Well! That was the prologue. Pretty short, only 857 words. But I can tell you, there's more coming! So yes, there is another pair of Luteces than the one we knew. Shocking… Booker/Comstock's adventure in Columbia will be different because of who he was. I assumed that when Comstock took Anna, Columbia was already up and flying. As when Lady Comstock found out about Elizabeth, they were already on Columbia.**

**So Cheers! And review. I have a long holiday ahead of me, and a shitload of homework…. Damn. I'll find the time to update my stories… hopefully.**


End file.
